Proving It
by MissFire
Summary: In a companion piece to Some Other Duty, Han wrestles with the idea that perhaps his involvement with New Republic isn't solely because of how he feels about the Empire. ONE SHOT.


Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars…because as of yet, I have earned no copyrights or moneys by merely being a devoted fan...

A/N: Set right before _The Courtship of Princess Leia_…

**Proving It**

"I'm beginning to wonder why I signed on for this in the first place," I said, when I was finally in the privacy of my state-room. I flopped down on the sculptiform chair, the chair conforming to my body as I threw my legs over its arms, sitting in what I considered a relaxed position.

Some might call it sloppy, but, hey, to each his own.

The snorted retort that I heard was enough of an answer. Too much of one, actually. So when a scowl found its way to my lips, there was just no way I could suppress it. "There's no need to be that way about it, furball. I'm just talking."

Chewbacca, looking down on me – because there wasn't any other way he could look at me – replied indignantly.

Not that _that_ made me feel any better. "I do _not _talk too much," I returned stubbornly. Silence invaded the room, leaving it with an oppressive sort of emptiness. _It's kind of cold in here_, I realized vaguely, rubbing at the collar of my shirt. But it could have been the chill of the viewport that was getting to me. Being in command of this fleet group had it perks, one of which being the immense viewport in my room, granting its viewer a generous panorama of the stars beyond. Of the cold vacuum beyond.

_I must _really_ be in a bleak mood if that's how I consider it_, the thought forced its way to the forefront of my mind. There was no sense in brooding, though.

I could feel Chewie's eyes on me, and I knew that he was expecting some sort of explanation for my attitude. The Fleet had just destroyed _Iron Fist_, after all. There was no excuse to be mopey – we had won. But I knew that Zsinj had survived. Maybe that wasn't even the _Iron Fist_, but I knew that wasn't the last I had seen of him. The thought was wearying. "I'm tired, pal," I admitted reluctantly after another long moment, shutting my eyes, shutting everything out. "I'm tired. I had no idea that fighting the Empire would take so long."

But I belatedly realized that it wasn't, in fact, all that long at all. These past few years had seemed to rush by, taking their toll when I wasn't even looking.

"That krilling son of a _barchakta_," the curse jumped from my mouth of its own accord. "Damn Zsinj."

Chewie added his own string of invective that would make even a Hutt blush.

I smiled tightly, the gesture feeling out of place, considering the black mood that seemed to be coloring my thoughts. "Yeah, damn the whole lot of them."

Who had known that the Empire was so vast? I shook my head. I mean, _of course_, the Empire was vast, but who knew that it would take so long to fight it?

"The problem is," I began slowly, running a hand over my face. How long had it been since I slept? My eyes felt gritty and stubble dotted my jaw. "The problem is the Rebellion was founded by idealistic, academic-types who had never seen any kind of battle-action."

Shock widened his blue eyes as Chewie whuffled a question.

"I'm not saying it was a bad idea!" I protested. Hell, if I had thought it was a _bad_ idea, didn't the furry oaf think I would have skipped out of this little picnic a long time ago? "I'm just saying it was a nice idea _in theory_, but getting the job done is a hell of a lot harder than declaring war on the Empire in as many words!"

But the truth of the matter was that the Empire was just as nearly defeated – if not in name, then in the seriousness of their situation. Losing both the Emperor and Vader in one crippling blow four years ago was devastating to their control of their troops. Yeah, Isard had been keeping it together, but there were internal struggles for power even when she was at the helm. Sector Moffs scrabbled for what was left of the territory, each carving their own niche in the galaxy, their own Empires.

Teamwork was never a strong point with the Imperials.

Chewie had said something that I had completely missed. I asked him to repeat it. The implications of his observations were obvious. "No," I said sourly. "I didn't just stick this out for _her_."

Leia.

Oh, I could easily explain away my involvement with the Rebellion. It was a way of living when I didn't really have anything important going on. So I had a little debt with Jabba? Big deal. Staying in the Rebellion was the right thing for me, because…

Well…again, what the hell _else_ did I have going for me?

Besides, being in the Rebellion made for a pretty good cover when all of those bounty hunters came looking for me.

And I couldn't have really ditched the Rebellion after my rescue from Jabba's. Luke had become a respected member of the Rebel's upper leadership after his move on the Death Star. Leia was one of the movement's most pivotal members. They both had risked their lives for me, who, by some twist of fate, was just as valued a member of their cause as they were.

That was a debt for which I would always be on the owing end.

So, naturally, I had stayed with the Rebellion, seeing it through to the destruction of the second Death Star. I owed it to them. Obviously.

But could I so easily explain my staying with the New Republic?

Maybe Chewie was lining up his targeting computer right. Perhaps Leia _was_ the reason.

_Leia is the reason_, I concluded with resignation. In the past, I've done a lot of things for a lot of women. But Leia has demanded the most of me, years of my time when other women have seen much less. I've always been happy to oblige for her.

My life is a small price to pay, if by protecting her, it is demanded of me.

I felt my face warm with that thought. _Yeah sure, since when are you so poetic, Solo?_

But…I miss her. Her absence is a wound that grows deeper as I am stationed farther and farther away from her. And for longer amounts of time, it seems.

If her absence was a wound, the Imperials were the salt.

"Damn Zsinj," I said again. Chewie's not surprised by the outburst. He knows how I can be…especially when it's for something as monumental as thinking. I got up suddenly, crossing the room to stand obstinately at the viewport. I noticed the gritted snarl of my reflection. Chasing Zsinj has become more than a duty.

I have to get him.

Every time my blaster is trained on him, my finger on trigger growing tighter, he slips from my sights. I'm tired of this chase. I'm tired of fighting.

I'm tired of losing. I'm tired of being made a fool of.

I'm tired of disappointing her.

"What if this war never ends?" I asked no one in particular. I could feel my chest tightening, a sinking feeling settling like a ball of ice in my stomach. "What if I never win?"

A terrible vision of a future, a future consumed by my hunt for Zsinj, crossed my mind. I _have_ to win for her. I have to prove it to her. Prove that I'm more than just the rogue, the smuggler that can occupy her thoughts when she has the time for me.

I have to prove that I am worthy of the affections she has shown me in past.

Leia was growing to be an important member of the New Republic's leadership. She was a princess who has been sculpted into an icon, a symbol of the ideals of the New Republic and the Rebellion before it. A smuggler-turned-hero isn't going to be enough for her, can't be the help that will aid her in the achievement of her ideals.

But maybe it could…if that same smuggler-turned-hero could prove himself a competent military commander.

And bringing that blasted Zsinj to justice was one way of proving it.

I sighed, unclenching my fists at my sides. I hadn't realized I had been holding them so tightly. Zsinj was just so hard to catch. My fleet had been deployed for six months, with the sole task of hunting him down. And we had come so close to getting him.

I miss Leia so much.

If she were at my side, this battle with Zsinj would have been done and over with long ago. She's so intelligent, so dedicated. I'm lucky that I've enjoyed her attention this long.

I hope she doesn't wise up soon.

Because I'm not made of the same stuff she is. I'm not as dedicated. Here it is, only six months into my own fleet deployment, and I already want to cry off. The results aren't coming fast enough for me. I don't have the patience.

"It was easier when I knew that I could protect her," I said darkly, glancing over my shoulder at Chewie. I lifted my hand, pantomiming a blaster, continuing, "Just by lining up the stormtroopers and – _zap! _– knocking them flat."

Chewie softly roared his agreement.

The fleet was being recalled to Coruscant. We had done the best that we could in the time we were given, but Zsinj would have to be dealt with at another time.

At least we were going back to Coruscant. A smile found its way to my face. Leia would be back from her trip to the Hapes. I would be back from a grueling – and largely unsuccessful – deployment.

We would be together. That realization alone was enough to put a cap on the dark, self-loathing thoughts that had been swirling in my head these last few weeks.

I would have Zsinj. Eventually. His carcass was as good as mine.

But more importantly – and more immediately – I would have Leia. Thinking of her was enough to put my duty in perspective, brighten my mood and put a little optimism back in my spirit.

After all, what I do…I do for her. And I hope that it's enough.

Because...I love her. And I would do anything to prove it.

* * *

A/N: So a suggestion was made in the reviews if a Han POV would follow...so there it is! And in all honesty, I planned to write a Han piece, anyway...still a tad melodramatic and angsty, I know, but I thought it was a different sort of take on him. But ah well... Let me know what you think! 


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